Rewinding the Clocks
by C.K.isback
Summary: Gale was never quite right after The Rebellion, despite what Katniss thought. He wishes he could go back in time as simply as turning back the hands of a clock. But there might be another way to fix the broken man, one Gale would have never expected.


_Yawn...so this is pretty lame. But I'm tired. And bored. Feel free to send your thoughts, ideas, or marriage proposals to the review section, where a magic team of review monkeys will alert me when you do using a series of carfully designed smoke signals. I'm going to sleep now. Bye-bye..._

**Rewinding the Clocks**

Gale Hawthorne was a broken man.

Ever since that fateful day, that one moment that had changed the course of his life forever, he had never been truly happy. The second those bombs had gone off, killing young Primrose Everdeen, the one love of his life had been lost to him forever.

He often reflected on the past, rewinding the clocks, spending sleepless nights lusting over what might have been. He constructed carefully devised futures in which he and Katniss lived happily. They were always married, living in a modest little house in District Twelve. They had a few kids, sometimes even a dog. Imaginary Gale went to the mines whistling, cheered by the thought of seeing his wife's face the second he got home.

Of course, that would've never happened, even if Prim hadn't died. She would have chosen Peeta. The fact, as hard and cold as stone in winter, scurried in his mind, slowly eating away at his soul. If only the Games hadn't happened. If only…

But he was married now, with a child on the way. To outsiders, he was a kind. happy man, full of life and personality. He often believed it himself, repeated over and over that everything was fine, that he had stopped loving Katniss Everdeen long ago. But the falsehoods only made that small part of his brain, the one drowning in sorrow, more determined to grow.

He did love his wife. She was a kind, comforting woman. She oozed a sense of warmth and security that was what Gale needed to quench the fire Katniss had left blazing in his heart. There was a certain glow to her that calmed not only Gale, but everyone who met her. Gale was happy to be married to her, but that sick, twisted part of himself felt a sense of longing for the other woman that had once been in his life.

He had not seen Katniss since the day she told him to leave, leave her forever. The pain in her voice had been too much for Gale to bare. Of course he had to leave, straight away. He did not want to cause Katniss any more pain than he had already inflicted. He sometimes wondered, with an emotion bordering on rage, whether she was happy. Whether Peeta had made her content, satisfied her wants of love and marriage. Maybe they had children. Gale didn't want to think about it, though.

He had a child of his own on the way, anyways. He had promised himself, from the moment his wife had told him, that he would care for the baby in the way a father should, to block out all thoughts of Katniss Everdeen and to focus his love only on his wife and child. He was not sure if he could accomplish it, but he was willing to try. It is what Katniss would've wanted him to do.

It was a fine fall morning when the baby was born, the leaves were just turning in shades of green for their warm fall colors. Bright red apples grew, moist and plump, from the trees in the orchards near the Hawthorne house. Gale had been on a business trip in District Six when he had received the news. He was utterly devasted to hear that the baby was on the way, and there was no possible situation that would let him get there in time.

Still, he had rushed to his car, sprinting through the halls of the hotel in which he had been staying. He must look funny, he thought to himself. A grown man running through the building in a newly cleaned business suit. He clutched his briefcase tight as he jumped into his car, putting his foot on the gas before the door was even closed.

He drove the rest of the day and through half the night before he got to the hospital. He was directed by sleepy nurses to go to floor three, the Delivery Wing. He sped off without further direction.

He told himself that his self-imposed sentence started the moment he saw his child. After that, there would be no more Katniss Everdeen in his life. The thought made his stomach flip, but he continued on at the same brisk pace. It had to happen sometime.

The room in which his wife and newborn baby were being kept was dark and quiet, the beep of a monitor and soft breathing the only noise in the room. His wife lay on the bed, eyes closed and her hair fanning out around her slightly damp face. He delicately touched a lock of it, stalling. He knew that when he turned around, when he saw his baby, it would all be over. And he was terrified of life without Katniss, even the imaginary one.

Behind him came a little sniffle and the sound of fabric delicately shifting on human skin.

Slowly, heart thudding, he turned around.

In the little crib was nestled a little newborn girl, no bigger than a china doll. Her eyes were squeezed tight, but her fingers twitched restlessly in sleep. A small sprout of jet black hair grew from her head. In Gale's eyes, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He released his breath. It would all be okay. He didn't know why he thought this, but he was quite sure of it.

He picked the little baby - his baby - up gingerly, making sure not to squeeze it too hard, or to drop it. The last baby he had held was little Posy, and that had been a very long time ago.

The baby gurgled, kicking out a leg from her tightly swaddled blanket. Her little hands balled up against Gale's arm, pinching his skin hard. He chuckled. She was strong.

The baby twitched again, then seemed to wake up. It's eyes opened just a crack, revealing light grey irises. She stretched one arm forward, then flecked the other, yawning. It made her look like she was about to do kung fu, or was holding an imaginary slingshot, or -

"Shooting an arrow, are you?" Gale whispered, an amused smile jumping on his face. It quickly dropped. This girl was not Katniss. He could not think of Katniss.

But he was already filled with an emotion that he hadn't associated with Katniss for many years, even before the bombs went off. The feeling of friendship and family, of unconditional love and a sort of dependency that only came from a deep feeling inside, one that connected you to that person forever. A sort of love that was much more complicated and deeper than the trite romantic type of love.

She's not Katniss Everdeen, though, he thought sternly. And she never will be.

But the feeling still lingered, and for the first time in seven years, Gale felt whole again. The awful, sick part of his mind that still obsessed over Katniss shrunk until it had nearly disappeared. He knew right then that it wouldn't be hard at all to move on, with that sort of love between him and his daughter. He could finally have peace.

The little girl yawned again, nestling into Gale's arm. She was warm and soft and small, but she had a commanding arua, and took up all of Gale's attention. He was fascinated by her.

Next to him, his wife stirred, eyes opening. She smiled when she saw Gale.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" she said, putting her hair behind her ears. She looked extremely tired, but proud all the same.

Gale nodded, eyes still fixed on the sleeping form of his daughter, full of warmth. "Yes."

"What do you want to name her?"

Gale thought for a moment. In his heart, he wanted to name the little girl Katniss, but he knew that that name was one associated with unrequited love and pain and terror, not something he wanted any of his children to carry. He needed something to describe the old Katniss, the one who he had proudly called his best friend.

He hesitated before turning to his wife. "How about…Catnip?" It sounded like a question.

The woman wrinkled her nose, her expression torn between amusement and confusion. "Catnip?" She looked unsure.

Gale went on hurriedly, "I know it's weird, but it's unique too, don't you think? Interesting."

"Interesting," his wife repeated. She closed her eyes for a moment. "Catnip. Cat. Kitty." She smiled. "Sure, why not? None of the other little girls names will hold a candle to hers."

Gale grinned, then looked down at the girl, Catnip. She gurgled and wiggled again, turning her grey eyes on his face. They were full of surprise, as if she was still wondering what she was doing here. But they were also full of hope, of happiness. She rang true with unspoken promise.

Yes, Gale Hawthorne felt nearly whole again.


End file.
